BEYOND THE LARGE windows of the office, blackness prevailed, thick and chilled. It seeped through the cooled air, rattling the branches of the nearby trees and stirring the waters of the sound. I should have been concerned about the men outside, protecting the estate, but I wasn’t. It was their job.

The thick windows held out the wind, but just beyond the windows I could see its effects in the whipping vines on the veranda beside the house. Winter was coming and the chill was all around me. It had been a long time since I’d wintered in New York.

I pictured my apartment in Knightsbridge. It wasn’t warmer in London. If anything, it was cooler. Nevertheless, even during my self-imposed isolation, Knightsbridge was anything but. There was no dark lawn or daunting perimeter. The entire hamlet bustled day and night. It was filled with culture, fashion houses, and famous restaurants. Perhaps subconsciously I’d purchased the flat with Adelaide in mind. Now that she was here, upstairs, my desires were no longer subliminal. I wanted to take her there.

I prayed that she’d walk the sidewalks, shop in Harrods and Jimmy Choo, and dine with me at any of the clubs and bars. With her appreciation of art, she could browse the museums or redecorate the flat with priceless antiques.

My dreams were at hand—literally at my fingertips—and yet a million miles away.

The concerns I’d explained to Alexandria were real. Eva insisted that I listen, that I comprehend. At first I was unwilling.

Adelaide would wake. I knew it. Until…

I didn’t.

And now the damn newscast.

The body.

The arrest.

This conversation shouldn’t occur over the phone, but I refused to leave Adelaide, and I had to know. I had to confirm my suspicions. It was probably the reason she didn’t come into the house.

“I could tell you to come here. To talk to me in person,” I said when she picked up.

“Or you could trust me that no one will hear this conversation. I provided the house with the burner phone for a reason. I was expecting your call.”

I squeezed the phone tighter. “Your name?”

“My name?”

“Standard insurance.” If she said her name, we weren’t being recorded. Her years as an operative would have taught her that. I shouldn’t have to explain it any more.

“Deloris Witt.”

I exhaled. “Now,” I said, “tell me why.”

“You’re not asking first if I know who did it?”

“I wouldn’t be risking this call if I doubted that answer. I know. You just confirmed it. Now tell me why and if my son authorized it.”

“I think you know why.”

“My son?”

“No. He didn’t authorize it, but he did mention he wanted it. Not her death,” Deloris clarified. “He wanted the consequences that would accompany it. He never knew she was being kept safe. He’ll never know what happened.”

I fought to respond. She was his employee. It wasn’t her place to go rogue. However, at the same time, I was thankful he wasn’t involved. “Yet you’re willingly telling me?”

“You aren’t him. He isn’t you.”

That had always been my dream.

If secrets were stars I could light a galaxy. If they were stars they wouldn’t be affected by gravity, not as we know it. Instead, they’re weights, each one heavier than the last, each one pulling me down until I fought to breathe, to live. Each one replacing the starry sky with drowning regret.

Could I continue to keep them to myself?

All of my dreams were so close. And yet each weight pulled me further and further away.

I closed my eyes. Murder had been in my past. I’d given it all up, moved beyond, and now I was there again. “Details?”

“Do you really want to know?”

“She was innocent.” That simple statement was what ate at me. Then again, I’d seen other innocents die. They’d died for power, for revenge, and for love.

“Her death took precedence over her existence,” Deloris said matter-of-factly. “Sometimes the saying is true: the end justifies the means. She was available. Besides, her fate was sealed when she reneged on her obligation to Infidelity and attempted to blackmail Spencer.”

“Blackmail?” I tried to understand. “Her accusations were false? He didn’t harm her?”

“He did, but from what I learned from her, he’d done it before. She realized she’d messed up with Infidelity. She knew his inclinations and intended to profit from his depravity.”

I shook my head. “Not as innocent as I previously thought.”

“Her plan would have worked if she hadn’t involved the authorities. Fitzgerald would have paid her to go away. I’m most certain the payout would have been short-lived. Her fate would have ultimately been the same.”

“So in saving her, you prolonged her reprieve?”

“That’s a nice way to look at it.”

“Did you lie?”

“No, sir.”

“You don’t need any more qualifiers? You can answer unequivocally to never lying?”

“Can you?”

“I didn’t ask me. I asked you.”

“I used a qualifier,” Deloris admitted. “I’ve never lied to your son or you.”

“Only a few days ago, you told me to my face that she was safe.”

“She was and things changed. Spencer was too close to winning. Mr. Fitzgerald was determined to make their marriage legal. Mrs. Fitzgerald’s health was getting worse. Mr. Fitzgerald was desperate. If his wife died, the entire will, including the codicil could have come out. If Alex and Edward were married, he could keep the codicil hidden and go on with Article XII.”

“And you knew this how?”

“I listen. I watch. It’s what I do. Those weren’t my primary concerns. My primary concerns were Alex and Lennox. I was with him when he lost Jocelyn.”

She let that statement hang in the air, reminding me that I wasn’t. “Your point?”

“I wasn’t going to do that again.

“Edward’s total disregard of Alex as nothing more than a step on his climb to American nobility was only surpassed by his brutality aimed at Melissa and then Chelsea. Do you believe that after their marriage Alex would have been exempt?”

I didn’t respond. Instead, I recalled discolored patches on Adelaide’s porcelain skin. I recalled her countless excuses—clumsiness and medications. I remembered threatening her ass of a husband and her begging for his reprieve. If Edward Spencer were anything like his father—yes, Adelaide had shared that secret with me too—then I knew that Alexandria wouldn’t have been exempt.

She went on. “How would that have affected Lennox… and Mrs. Fitzgerald?”

I knew how it would. It would have devastated them, just as it had me. Lennox had already lost one love in his life. I’d done my part to give him another. Would I have been able to sit back and watch her taken from him? Watch her be abused from afar? Had Deloris authorized something that I wouldn’t have, given the opportunity?

Love.

I could categorize Melissa’s death… this murder… as done for love. There were three people I loved: Angelina, Lennox, and Adelaide. Melissa’s death helped two of those people.

I couldn’t argue with her logic.

“Lennox can never know.”

“I agree.”

“Will you lie to him?”

“As I said, I’ve never lied to him, to either of you. With him, for him, I can omit some information. Will I be the only one who’s done that?”

“Mrs. Witt, tread lightly.”

“I’ll take that as your answer.”

“You should. You said the last time we spoke about Melissa that he asked you to take care of her?”

“No. He said he wanted the problem gone. She was the cause of the problem. I helped her be gone. After listening to the demeaning and demanding way Spencer spoke to Alex on a telephone call, he said he wanted Spencer to suffer. I told him I was thinking about a solution. I never gave him the entire story.”

“Two birds. One stone,” I said.

“Yes, sir,” Deloris confirmed. “We’ll never mention this?”

“One more thing. The charges, will they stick? Will my son get his wish?”

“Will he suffer?”

“That’s what I’m asking,” I said.

“I’m most certain of it.”

Why did most certain fail to pacify me? “My son will never take the fall for this.”

“That goes without saying.”

“You have a plan B?”

“I always do.”

I exhaled. She was good.

“Tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir, I’ll be there tomorrow.”

“And this conversation never happened.”

“What conversation?” she asked. “Good night.”

Efficient and deadly. It seemed that Lennox did know how to pick them.

I removed the battery on the disposable phone. The house was quiet as I slipped through the rooms and hallways until I reached the kitchen door, the one that went out onto the pool deck. A cold chill ran through me as I stepped outside onto the concrete. One slip from my fingers and the phone fell to the hard pavement. A misstep of my shoe and my heel smashed the plastic to dust.

I scooped the remains into the palm of my hand and eased back into the dark kitchen. Opening the large cabinet that housed the trash and recycling, I dumped the plastic shreds into the recyclables. Even monsters can help save the planet.